Reba McEntire won the Country Music Association’s “best singer” award four times in a row following her breakthrough in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Naturally, she is also honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
However, Reba has also had her fair share of personal traumas, so life has not always been easy for her, even with her amazing profession and wealth.
Reba’s mother Jacqueline, at 93 years old, lost her fight with illness in 2022.
She was completely prepared to pass away and had lived a lovely, long, and healthy life. The country music performer posted on social media, “The cancer may believe it has won the fight, but we’re giving God all the credit for choosing the time for her to go home to Him.”
Jacqueline McEntire’s desire of becoming a professional country singer was always realized when she taught Reba to sing, fulfilling her dream via her daughter.
We all know how much she loved us, and she left knowing how much love she had.Reba remarked, “We have so many amazing memories, but we’re going to miss her.
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Reba is well aware of the suffering associated with loss and grief.
Thirty-two years ago on March 16, she lost her tour manager in a horrific plane crash after a concert, along with seven other band members.
I recall that 1991 day. I heard about the crash on the radio as I was heading to work. I felt my heart skip a beat, thinking that Reba was on the plane too.
She wasn’t, though.
After playing in San Diego on March 16, 1991, Reba and her band were on their way to Fort Wayne, Indiana, for their next tour stop.
At the airport in San Diego, two flights were waiting; Reba, her husband, and manager spent the night in San Diego, while the band members and tour manager traveled on ahead.
Ten miles east of the airport, the first aircraft tragically met its demise.
Reba has frequently honored her deceased friends throughout the years.
She opened out about the day her band broke up in an emotional 2012 interview with Oprah Winfrey.
“Everyone on board was killed when the airplane’s tip struck a rock on the side of Otay Mountain,” McEntire said to Winfrey.
“Our pilot was contacted, and Narvel, Reba’s manager, went to meet with him to inform us of what had occurred. When Narvel returned to my hotel room at two or three in the morning, he informed me that one of the planes had crashed. I said, “Are they okay?” In his words, “I don’t think so.” “But you’re not sure?” I asked. I don’t think so, he said.
Reba remembered the events of the disaster, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Narvel was calling from room to room while holding a phone,” she started, stopping when tears welled up in her eyes. “I apologize, but even after 20 years, it seems like it will never stop hurting,” she remarked. But that chamber is visible to me. Narvel is moving back and forth, as I can see.
It’s been 32 years since the crash. She recently recalled the terrible events of that day by sharing a picture of her band on Instagram.
She shared another homage to her friends in 2020.
“I lost my pals in a plane tragedy 29 years ago today. It seems fitting that Mama passed away on that anniversary,” she writes.
“I am aware that they are all together in Heaven, looking out for one another. Let’s continue to look out for one another while we’re still on this planet and never take a moment for granted to spend with our loved ones.
Soon after, Reba’s admirers rallied behind the country music icon.
Many folks sent prayers and good vibes.
“Reba I’ve always admired your music, our mutual love of horses, and now that I follow you on Instagram.May God bless you and your mother. A fan wrote.
Reba showed once more this year, in 2023, that she still grieves the terrible loss of her pals and that she will never forget them.
She posted a video of the group performing together along with the message, “Their love for music and the stage gives us all the strength to go on.”
I apologize, Reba. You are an amazing woman; stay strong. You make so many people happy that there is a reason God has preserved you on this planet. Keep grinning!
My Neighbor Kept Hanging out Her Panties Right in Front of My Son’s Window, So I Taught Her a Real Lesson
The underwear of my neighbor turned into the star of a suburban farce, stealing the show directly outside my son’s 8-year-old window. Jake’s innocent question about whether her thongs were slingshots made me realize that the “panty parade” needed to end and that it was time to teach her some prudence when doing the laundry.
Oh, suburbia: a place where everything seems perfect, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass, and life goes on without incident until someone changes everything. At that point, Lisa, our new neighbor, showed up. Everything had been rather quiet until wash day, when I saw something for the first time that had caught me off guard: a rainbow of her panties flapping outside Jake’s window like flags at a dubious parade.I nearly choked on my coffee one afternoon while folding Jake’s superhero underwear and happened to look out the window. And there they were, lacy and blazing pink and very much on show. Ever the inquisitive child, my son glanced over my shoulder and posed the dreaded query, “Mom, why is Mrs. Lisa wearing her underpants outside? And why are there strings on some of them? Are they for her hamster companion?I tried to explain between choked laughter and horrified astonishment. However, Jake’s imagination was running wild as he pondered whether Mrs. Lisa had aerodynamically engineered underpants and was indeed a superhero. He even expressed a desire to participate, proposing that his Captain America boxers be displayed next to her “crime-fighting gear.” Jake would get curious and Lisa’s laundry would flap in the breeze on a daily basis. But I realized it was time to terminate this farce when he offered to hang his own underpants next to hers. So, prepared to settle the dispute amicably, I marched over to her residence. Before I could say anything, Lisa answered the door and made it plain that she wasn’t going to break her laundry routine for anyone. She dismissed my worries with a laugh, advised me to “loosen up,” and even gave me style tips for my own clothes. Despite my frustration, I remained resolute and devised a cleverly trivial scheme. Using the brightest fabric I could find, I made the biggest, flashiest pair of granny panties ever that evening. When Lisa departed the following day, I hung my work of art directly in front of her window. When she came back, the sight of the enormous underwear with a flamingo print almost took her breath away. It was worth every stitch to watch her lose her cool trying to take down my practical joke. After a while, she gave in and agreed to shift her laundry somewhere less noticeable, all the while I silently celebrated my success. After that, Lisa’s laundry disappeared from our shared vision, and everything returned to normal. What about me? In the end, I had some flamingo-themed curtains that served as a constant reminder of the day I prevailed in the suburban laundry war.
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